


Kissing It Better

by Wednesdayschild (sheraiah)



Series: Wanker universe [3]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Interspecies, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-19
Updated: 2013-02-19
Packaged: 2017-11-29 20:00:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/690866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheraiah/pseuds/Wednesdayschild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part 3 in the Wanker series</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kissing It Better

Life’s twists and turns were certainly surprising, Gimli reflected, running a hand down the silken skin of his lover’s back. He felt Legolas sigh and nuzzle into his neck. When they had started out from Rivendell, he had never expected to be friends with an elf, much less have one as a lover. His father would likely have his hide for a hearthrug, and he suspected that Legolas’ father would have a similar reaction. He grinned realizing how little he cared what either set of parents thought, Legolas was worth it. He’d come to the conclusion that he’d willingly walk through the fires of Mt Doom for the golden-haired archer and count it a small price to pay.

 

“What amuses you so, meleth?” 

 

“The thought of an elf and a dwarf mating like rabbits,” Gimli replied, giving the elf’s taut backside an affectionate squeeze.

 

“No rabbit ever had your stamina, Gimli,” Legolas snickered, his voice muffled as he nibbled the neck under his lover’s beard.

 

“Oh, I think we’re fairly well matched there,” the dwarf said, stretching before wrapping his arm a bit tighter around his companion. A deep rumble sounded from the vicinity of Gimli’s torso, prompting a snicker from Legolas.

 

“But not in others! Gimli, you eat like a hobbit,” the elf jibed, digging clever fingers into a spot he knew was ticklish on his lover’s ribcage. The dwarf yelped and fought fire with fire, attacking sides of Legolas’ neck and the crease where his legs met his groin. The elf, giggling so hard he could barely breathe, tried to squirm away and ended up tumbling off the bed and landing on his back on the floor with a thump. Unfortunately, the rumpled covers were twisted around Gimli as tightly as they were around Legolas, so the dwarf quickly followed, landing squarely atop the slender archer. What breath the elf still had in his lungs left with a whoosh and a grunt, but he retained enough presence of mind to grab Gimli to keep him from sliding off onto the floor. Wide brown eyes met wide slate-colored eyes as Legolas drew an experimental breath.

 

“Ouch,” the elf said half laughing, half gasping in pain.

 

“I should say! Are you hurt, lad?”

 

“More my pride than anything else, meleth. Although, you may well have to pull a few splinters from my backside,” Legolas chuckled, wincing. Gimli immediately shifted off the elf, unwinding the sheet from around them.

 

“Let me see,” he demanded, urging Legolas to roll onto his belly. The elf acquiesced, but not without protest.

 

“Gimli, I was jesting!”

 

“Aye, I know. No splinters, but I’ll wager you’ll have a nice bruise for a few hours,” the dwarf commented, running a gentle hand across the abused flesh.

 

“Perhaps you should kiss it better,” the elf replied saucily, giving a come-hither look over his shoulder. Gimli arched a brow at his lover.

 

“Now who has stamina?” he asked, amusement patent in his tone. He did, however, stroke the flesh beneath his hand again. “I think, maybe, we should wait to see how badly you bruise before we play ‘hide the sausage’ again.” Legolas burst out laughing.

 

“’Hide the sausage’? Elbereth, Gimli, where do you keep getting these nicknames for body parts and sex?”

 

“I can’t claim that one. I heard it from a tanner in Dale,” the dwarf replied, sitting back on his heels. 

 

“They are certainly amusing,” Legolas commented, rolling over and pulling his long legs under him to sit cross-legged facing Gimli. “Tell me another.”

 

“Hmmm, let me think ……. How about ‘one-eyed snake’?”

 

Legolas snickered. 

 

“’Breech-weasel’.”

 

Giggling.

 

“’Cave of Wonders’.”

 

The elf giggled again. “Oh, Gimli that is truly just maudlin! Does that refer to the female parts or to a male’s arse?”

 

“The arse. The female parts are ‘Caverns of Wonder’.” The laughing increased.

 

“That is even worse!”

 

“Come on, you daft creature. The hobbits will be back soon and I want to get something to eat before Sam starts cooking and shoos us out of the kitchen.”

 

“Oh, very well! I suppose I will have to suffer unfulfilled until you fill that bottomless pit you call your stomach,” the elf said, gazing at Gimli from under his thick eyelashes.

 

“Suppose I heat some water for a bath for you, hmmm? Might help that poor, battered backside of yours,” the dwarf offered solicitously. “I could help you wash your hair, and your back.” He grinned wolfishly, “And your front.” Legolas grinned back at him, rocking forward onto his knees to plant an enthusiastic kiss on the dwarf’s mouth.

 

 

~

 

Legolas stretched languidly, enjoying the feel of sturdy dwarven fingers massaging his scalp. Gimli had wisely begun by washing more personal areas, leaving the elf nearly boneless with satiation. Of course, being the generous creature that he was, Legolas had given as good as he had gotten so Gimli had no complaints.

****

Legolas’ head was thrown back, his breath coming in gasps as Gimli’s thrusts sped up. He was sitting atop the dwarf’s thighs, Gimli’s broad hands splayed across his back, supporting him as his lover’s tongue circled one puckered nipple. Suddenly, his head snapped up, eyes going wide. He grabbed two fists full of Gimli’s hair, pulling the dwarf’s head up, lips crashing down to swallow the moan that escaped as his climax caused his body to clench around Gimli’s hardness.

****

 

“Shift forward a bit, lad, and let’s rinse this out of your hair,” Gimli said, bringing Legolas back to the present. Obligingly, the elf leaned forward as the dwarf lifted the pail of water he had set aside solely for this purpose. 

 

Sitting back again, Legolas ran a hand through his wet locks, pulling them back from his face and sighing contentedly. He smiled vaguely up at his lover as Gimli reached for the kettle of hot water, adding more to the bath to ease the soreness the fall from the bed and their loving had caused. 

 

~

 

Gimli dropped a kiss onto the fair head, grinning at Legolas’ sleepy murmur. The elf was just this side of reverie, and losing ground fast, from the look of him. He sat down in the chair by the tub that had been provided for the Fellowship’s use so that they would not have to brave the gawkers in the public baths. The dwarf stuck two pieces of bread and cheese into the contraption that he had made to Sam’s specifications and held it over the fire to melt the cheese and toast the bread. He kept one eye on his snack and one eye on the elf. He would not allow Legolas to drown himself in the tub; however fetching the elf looked soaking wet and deep in reverie.

 

Gimli’s bread and cheese was half-eaten when he heard the door open and close. Sam bustled in, carry-sacks heavy with the goods he had gotten in the marketplace.

 

“Beg pardon, Mister Gimli, Mister Legolas, but I’d best be starting on dinner. Mister Frodo and Mister Merry will be back directly, and I don’t doubt Mister Pippin will be famished after standing guard for Strider all day. Bless me, is he asleep?”

 

“I fear I was, Sam, but do not fret about waking me. The water is growing cold.” Legolas lifted his head and favored the hobbit with a fond smile. “And did we not all bid you call us by our names only?”

 

“Yes, you did and I’m a ninnyhammer for forgetting,” the hobbit replied with a self-depreciating grin.

 

“Gimli, would you hand me the towel, please?” Legolas took the towel and stood, his back to Sam, drying himself as he rose. At the hobbit’s shocked gasp, he looked over his shoulder to see Sam staring at him.

 

“Begging your pardon, Legolas, but what have you done to yourself? You’re black and blue!” The hobbit’s expression was one of concern, albeit slightly embarrassed concern.

 

“A minor accident, Sam, nothing to worry about. The bruises will be gone by midnight.” He wrapped the towel around his middle and stepped from the tub. He grinned at the hobbit. “What wonders have you found for our supper?” he asked, knowing the mention of food to be the one sure way to distract a hobbit, even one as observant as Sam.

 

“Oh, I’ve some of those fruits that they make the cooking oil from. Mister Merry tried them the other day and said they’re very tasty. I also got a fine joint of mutton and a couple of chickens. The farmers are starting to come back into the city, the ones who were lucky enough to escape the orcs and other nasty creatures. I’m going to roast the mutton with the vegetables I’ve got here, and I’ve bread dough rising in the pantry that should be about ready to be punched down and shaped. That’ll go well with the herb butter I got. And I got you some of those fruits you liked so well last week, Legolas. We need to put some weight back on you,” Sam said as he bustled around the counter and cabinets, putting some of his provisions away and bringing out bowls and pots to contain the rest. The elf exchanged an indulgent grin with the dwarf as he pulled his breeches over his lean hips. 

 

After using the towel to wring the water from his hair, Legolas hung it over the fire screen to dry and reached for the clean shirt that sat on the chair opposite the one Gimli occupied. It was made of a finely woven material, painstakingly stitched and embroidered with a small leaf and vine pattern around the neck and cuffs, a shirt fit for a nobleman. It had been altered to fit his slender build by the wife of one of Aragorn’s council members and gifted to him in gratitude for his aid to the lord and lady’s youngest son on the battlefield. The young man had survived where his brothers had not. Legolas had, at first, tried to convince the grieving parents that they need not reward him but after discussing the matter with Gimli had acquiesced and accepted the gift with grace. The son for whom it had originally been intended would not be needing it, and the journey the Fellowship had taken had been no kinder to their clothing than it had to their bodies, leaving all of them in need of new raiment. As much as it pained the elf to accept what should have been a mother’s loving gift to her son upon his return from battle, he appreciated the sentiment behind her decision to gift it to him and thought perhaps that his own mother, who had perished when he was so young that he could barely recall her, would approve.

 

In truth, the good lady of Gondor had recruited her circle of friends to outfit the rest of the remaining Fellowship, save for Aragorn and the Ringbearers who were already well taken care of in that respect. She had been appalled at the state of Legolas’ clothing and immediately realized that everyone had been too occupied with the new king and the state of the city to see to the king’s companions’ clothing. She had taken it on as her way of showing her appreciation for their deeds and had earned a special place in all their hearts. The fact that her spouse was one of Aragorn’s most steadfast supporters only elevated the couple in Legolas’ estimation. 

 

He sat down on the edge of the hearth, wincing slightly, and began to draw his comb through the damp tangles of his hair, using it as a cover to shoot covertly admiring glances at Gimli. 

 

“Ach, come here and let me do it! You’re making a bigger mess of it than it already was,” Gimli groused, reaching out to snatch the comb from the elf’s fingers. Legolas hid his pleased grin and meekly shifted into the dwarf’s reach.

 

Across the room, Legolas saw Sam pick up one of the bags he had brought in and hold it for a moment while glancing over at his companions and chewing his lower lip. He seemed to come to a decision after a short pause and he nodded to himself before approaching them. Elf and dwarf both looked expectantly at him.

 

“Begging your pardons, I don’t want to seem as I’m interfering but I saw something in the market I thought you both might like,” he said, his cheeks reddening slightly. He opened the sack and drew out a box filled with confections, handing it to them. “I know you both like sweets, especially you Legolas, and well, the lady I bought them from said they were meant to be shared by, well, um,” he hesitated, blushing even harder. Legolas and Gimli traded a veiled look.

 

“By lovers,” Gimli finished, taking pity on the embarrassed hobbit. Sam nodded, eyes darting between them nervously. “So,” Gimli said, drawing the comb through Legolas’ hair nonchalantly, “ should we take this to mean that you approve?”

 

“Oh, bless me, yes! Of course I do,” Sam exclaimed, smile blooming across his face. 

 

“How long have you known?” Legolas asked, returning the hobbit’s smile.

 

“Well, I thought you were headed that way in Lothlorien, but I wasn’t sure about it until I saw you kneel down and kiss Mister, I mean Gimli, in the garden yesterday.” He shifted from one foot to the other. “I’m right glad for you, truly, and I’m thinking that you’ll need your friends when you decide to tell your fathers about it.”

 

“That’s for certain,” Gimli said, grinning ruefully. “I don’t know what my da will do, but he’ll be in a temper for certain. He’s had it in his head that I’d be settling down and giving him grandchildren.” He looked down at Legolas and quickly said, “Now, don’t you get yourself worked up, elf. If I’d wanted a dwarf-maid and children, I’d have had them long before now. I have what I want, and that’s all there is to it.” Legolas graced Gimli with a sweet smile and laid his head on his knee.

 

“My father is well used to the unconventional from me, this is simply more so. He will thunder at me, but in the end he will accept my choice.” He saw Sam wince sympathetically, and hastened to correct him, “My father has a temper, Sam, but he loves his family above all else. It will be well, eventually. He would not cast any of his children aside, not for so small a thing.” He grinned impudently, “Besides, I am but last-born and not his heir. My eldest brother’s children are all older than I am. The kingdom is well supplied with heirs.” He sat up again and regarded Sam solemnly. “Your approval means much, dear friend. Thank you.” The hobbit grinned, pleased.

 

“It’s nothing more than friends do for each other,” he said, returning to his meal preparations. “Hopefully, you’ll be there when I wed, someday.”

 

“We wouldn’t miss it,” Gimli replied, tying off the last of Legolas’ braids. “Should we assume that the others know as well?”

 

“Mister Frodo does for certain,” Sam said, beginning to punch down the dough he had retrieved from the pantry. “And I’ve overheard Merry and Pippin making bets on it, but I don’t know as they’ve realized that one or the other if them has won yet.” Legolas and Gimli both burst out laughing, and it was to that that the other three hobbits entered the kitchen, effectively ending the conversation.

 

~

 

“Were you surprised at Sam, meleth?” Legolas asked, twining his fingers into Gimli’s beard as they lay in their bed a couple of hours after dinner.

 

“Not really. Of all the hobbits, he’d be the one to see it first. Him or Frodo and what one of them knows, the other does,” Gimli replied, nuzzling the patch of skin left bare by the open neck of the elf’s shirt. “So, my dear elf, how is that beautiful backside of yours feeling?”

 

“Truthfully, a bit sore. You will have to be very gentle, I am afraid.” Legolas gave a disappointed sigh.

 

“Well, there is another option,” the dwarf began, giving his lover a measuring look. “So far, I’ve been the giver and you the receiver every time. We could switch, if you wish.” 

 

“Do you wish this, Gimli?” The elf worried his lower lip with his teeth, until Gimli gently stroked his thumb along it before pulling him close and drawing the lower lip into his mouth, flicking his tongue over it and causing the elf’s hands to tighten spasmodically on his shoulders. A low moan rose from the elf’s throat and the dwarf grinned.

 

“I wish to have you in every possible way,” he whispered against his elven lover’s lips, drawing another moan from them.

 

“I do not want to hurt you, meleth.”

 

“You won’t. Did you trust me not to hurt you the first time?” Legolas answered him with a nod. “Well, I trust you, too. Just take the time to prepare me, and it won’t hurt.” A small, excited smile was his reward and he reached into the drawer on his side of the bed to retrieve the pot of salve before rolling onto his side, facing away from the elf. He pulled one leg up to his chest to give Legolas access to his hidden opening. He forced himself not to start when he felt the cool, slick fingertip circle the entry to his body. He didn’t want to scare Legolas off, but it had been many years since he had last done this. 

His next thought was to marvel at how quickly Legolas learned as the slender, deft fingers caressed him, both outside and in until he was squirming with need. He was more than ready when the elf finally pressed into him. Legolas moved slowly at first, building a slow burn that drew needy whimpers from him. In response to his incoherent pleas, the elf began to thrust harder, changing his angle slightly. Gimli grabbed the edge of the pillow, shoving it into his mouth just in time to stifle a howl of pleasure. Legolas began to whisper into his ear then, breathless strings of his native tongue interspersed with throaty moans. 

 

Gimli fumbled his hand across his belly, intending to take himself in hand, when his hand was gently brushed aside. Long, pale, slender fingers wrapped around his aching member, gripping in just the right way, with just the right amount of pressure, and applied just the right amount of friction. Gimli reached the edge of the precipice, and fell, his seed spurting over the long digits that so expertly stroked him. As he began to drift back to himself, he felt Legolas tense behind him, felt the hot jet of fluid deep inside him before the elf relaxed completely, arm draping limply across his ribs.

 

“Meleth nin, mir nin,” Legolas breathed into his ear, causing the dwarf to grin hugely.

 

“You liked that, I take it?” he asked, chuckling.

 

“Oh, yes, very much. I have no words for it,” his lover replied, gently withdrawing from him before urging him to roll onto his back. “Although, next time we will have to try another position. I would see your face when you come for me.”

 

“Why do you think I like having you on your back?” Gimli retorted, as Legolas laid his head on his shoulder. The elf laughed, cuddling in to his side.

 

“I believe I enjoy taking equally to giving,” he said, twirling a strand of beard around his finger.

 

“Then we’re well matched,” the dwarf stated, running his fingers along the elf’s spine. Legolas raised up and gave him the sweetest smile he had yet seen on the elf’s fair face.

 

“Indeed, we truly are,” he said softly.

 

 

The End

 

Translations:

Meleth: love  
Mir: jewel


End file.
